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A poem by Eugene Field

Reid, The Candidate

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Title:     Reid, The Candidate
Author: Eugene Field [More Titles by Field]

I saw a brave compositor
Go hustling o'er the mead,
Who bore a banner with these words:
"Hurrah for Whitelaw Reid!"

"Where go you, brother slug," I asked,
"With such unusual speed?"
He quoth: "I go to dump my vote
For gallant Whitelaw Reid!"

"But what has Whitelaw done," I asked,
"That now he should succeed?"
Said he: "The stanchest, truest friend
We have is Whitelaw Reid!

"There are no terms we can suggest
That he will not concede;
He is converted to our faith,
Is gallant Whitelaw Reid!

"The union it must be preserved--
That is this convert's creed,
And that is why we're whooping up
The cause of Whitelaw Reid!"

"If what you say of him be sooth,
You have a friend indeed,
So go on your winding way," quoth I,
"And whoop for Whitelaw Reid!"

So on unto the polls I saw
That printer straight proceed
While other printers swarmed in swarms
To vote for Whitelaw Reid.


[The end]
Eugene Field's poem: Reid, The Candidate

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